


Keep Me Blind

by sherlockpond



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Arguments, Character Study, Growing Up, Hospitals, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Love, M/M, The Year That Never Was (Doctor Who), Torchwood One, University, Wakes & Funerals, lots of references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockpond/pseuds/sherlockpond
Summary: Ianto Jones' life turned out different to what he'd been expecting.[A character study/from the perspective of one of the most complicated characters I've ever had the pleasure of writing about. Plus about a thousand references.]
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70





	Keep Me Blind

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhh hello.
> 
> I had a mad dry period of writing where I literally couldn't think of anything so I thought I'd just try this out a bit and it...helped (ish).
> 
> Please take into consideration I haven't listened to either Blind Summit or the Torchwood One Files. I only found out about them properly (and all their glorious exposition) whilst I was three-quarters of the way through this, so I apologise for the obvious inconsistencies.  
> Also, the more I read about Ianto's (bloody awful) father living in London with him, the more I wanted to kill him off earlier.
> 
> Because I'm unsure about the timeline in general in terms of the series, I took a bit of the stab in the dark with it and just tweaked the episodes around it all. I'll probably rewatch and notice that it's all out of kilter. Oh well.
> 
> Not checked over, so grammar and spelling errors ahoy. I'm not pretending that this is in any way polished, I just want to get it out before I over work it to death.
> 
> Comments, kudos - all that is massively appreciated.
> 
> Oh! For once there's a song that goes with this: Ministry - Karen O & Dangermouse (from the album Lux Prima).

6 

Primary school is scary, and the other children don’t quite know what to make of the shy, introverted boy with a mess of brown hair and sharp blue eyes. Ianto spends the majority of his time with his nose in history books, unable to read all the words, but happy to not be poked and prodded by the other children. 

He prefers school to being at home with his parents and sister. His Dad is loud and abrasive, he tells Ianto to be louder, to enjoy playing football, to eat more food and be strong. One day he’ll be working in the factories, or the steelworks in Port Talbot - a _real_ job. Ianto doesn’t understand why he _has_ to do anything, why _must_ he be strong? Kick around a ball? Eat more when he’s already full? What’s a _real_ job? He daren’t ask because he’s learned in the past that his father’s face goes a nasty ruddy colour and his sister always pulls him out the room. Ianto isn’t sure why his mother always looks so sadly at him when he asks questions. 

8

His Dad hits him, sharp and hard. It’s not the first time, but it’s always a bit of a shock. Hot tears well in his eyes and he runs to his shared bedroom. Rhiannon is reading an old teen magazine and she sees the blotchiness on his cheek, scorching tears on his cheeks and she shakes her head and opens her arms. He runs to her and buries his face in her shoulder.

10

Ianto goes on a school trip to Cardiff Castle, after begging his Dad to sign the form. He’s too distracted and gets split from his group - it doesn't really scare him all that much. He absent mindedly tries to imagine what life would be life alone. Better, he thinks.

***

He doesn’t like the school holidays, they take too long. Ianto likes the hubbub of school, he wanted to take out more books for the six weeks he’s stuck at home, but the lady in the school library said he was only allowed four.

They were read within the first two weeks and now Ianto has a month to try and pass with nothing new to distract him, he wishes he lived at the library.

It’s so hot that his father barks at the three of them to pack a bag and they all climb into their Renault Laguna. At several points, Ianto thinks he’s going to pass out, but he’s not allowed to open the back window because his father says the air conditioning is on. His mother stays silent in the front passenger seat, staring out the window - utterly vacant. Rhiannon is asleep, Ianto wishes he could be so relaxed. They pull into a caravan and camping site, Ianto’s hand is on the door handle and as soon as the car pulls in next to a battered old caravan he pushes the door open and escapes the sweaty, smokey confines of the car.

His mother all-but floats out of the car and waits for Ianto’s father to open the caravan, his sister yawns as she moves around to the boot of the car, waiting for her bag. His father lights a cigarette up and unlocks the caravan, Ianto dumps his bag by the mustard sofa at the far end and then heads back out into the sunshine, ready to hunt for grasshoppers and caterpillars. 

That night his skin is itchy from the sun and his sleeping bag feels like a furnace, rubbing him raw. He daren’t tell his father, he waits until he goes to get more cigarettes and beer before he shows it to his mother who sighs and rubs aching skin with hand lotion from her handbag. It soothes it for a little while, but soon the searing itch comes back. 

His father is upset for the whole weekend, Ianto barely speaks a word but enjoys the sea and the sand. The one upshot of his parents is that if he disappears for a while, they don’t really notice if he comes back by the time they realise.

It’s at this age that he realises he doesn’t love his parents like the other kids at school do. The other children say “I love you,” at the school gates. Ianto doesn’t feel the urge. He knows, even aged ten, that children are supposed to love their parents - but he doesn’t, not like he knows he should.

13

It’s Ianto’s birthday. _His day_. The one day where he should be allowed to eat ice cream for breakfast and chocolate for lunch. 

But instead he spends it in A&E, tears streaming down his face, the smell of the hospital making him feel sick to his stomach. He’s never felt pain like this before in all his life, his Dad rolls his eyes when he shouts in agony as he hobbles to the consultation room.

A female doctor with a kind smile tells him he’ll be okay, it’s a broken leg but he’ll be okay and he’ll probably have a cool scar.

“That’ll teach you to ask to go higher on the swing!” his Dad jokes, but it falls flat.

The doctor’s brow furrows. 

Ianto is silent, he’s learned to be good at that.

14

His father's funeral isn’t a sad affair for fourteen year-old Ianto Jones. He stands in a suit his Mam has bought him from a charity shop, it’s baggy around the shoulders, and even though she’s hemmed the trousers, they drag on the ground a little. It’s raining, and Ianto is too young to understand pathetic fallacy, but he understands that on sad days it rains.

He fiddles with the cuff of his suit as he watches his father's coffin lowers into the ground and is surprised when he feels _nothing._ Rhiannon tightens her arm around him, painfully grasping his shoulders and he winces but doesn’t say anything - he’s confused by this all, though. His Dad was horrible to his Mam, they were always shouting, there were always big bangs and thumps coming from the next room. Rhiannon would turn up her music on a battered old stereo, but it never stopped her small collection of glass animals from falling over when the walls shook.

He looks around at his family, most of them are crying and he doesn’t _understand_.

They each shake their head after the ceremony, patting him on the shoulder, ruffling his hair and squeezing his arm.

_“The poor boy,”_ some say patronisingly.

Others say _“He doesn’t realise,”_ with a tut.

_“- thinks his Dad is going to come home,”_ someone sobs.

_“Bless him…,”_ his granny whispers to his Mam.

But Ianto refutes this, he _knows_ his Dad isn’t coming home, he isn’t going to smash another plate on the kitchen floor or slam the back door so hard the window panes rattle. There’s going to be no more smokey front room, no more lectures about being a disappointment. He wants to smile at his father’s funeral but he doesn’t because he’s learnt more in fourteen years than some do in twenty-five.

His Mam cries all day, even when they’re in the funeral car taking them to a small village hall. Ianto disappears as soon as they arrive, finding the wall of the car park more interesting than forty people sniffing over a man who he feels hollow for.

Ianto looks at his Mam as she thanks people for coming and realises that he doesn’t feel much for her, either. He doesn’t know what that means, but he knows it’s not normal.

15

Ianto finds a small group of kids hanging out in the corner of the school playground. They don’t talk to one another, but they share looks which show their discontent at their current situation. Black eyeliner is smudged under their eyes, and they’ve got more piercings than Ianto’s ever seen in his life. He steals a pack of cigarettes from his sister’s bag and takes them to school, walks up to them and offers them one each, they look at him coldly, then one another before smirking and taking a cigarette. Ianto goes with them down to the copse of trees at the bottom of the school yard and they smoke in silence, the one that Ianto assumes is the leader smiles faintly at him and pulls out a pencil which turns out to be black kohl eyeliner.

Ianto takes it.

16

He’s bundled into the back of a police car, he doesn’t struggle or shout. The police officer gives him a disparaging look as he closes the door, Ianto looks across at the shopkeeper who’s furiously holding two bottles of cheap vodka and a huge pack of crisps. He’s not been foolish enough to steal from a shop near his house, choosing a corner shop a few miles away. As it turns out he’s quite good at remembering things, especially maps and routes.

He sits in a small room whilst he hears people talking from the other side of a door. The door in question opens and two plain clothed police officers enter, a social worker trailing behind tiredly. The social worker plonks themself next to Ianto and he doesn’t even give them a second look, the police officers introduce themselves, but he doesn’t listen. They switch on the tape but he doesn’t care. They ask questions but he doesn’t answer. He uses his one call to phone his mother, she turns up an hour later and somehow sorts out the mess. 

They sit in the car in silence, his mother looks tired. She sighs and then starts the car.

They don’t talk about it.

It doesn’t stop him from doing it again.

17

Rhiannon leaves to move in with her stupid boyfriend, Johnny. Ianto watches his sister pack her boxes into the back of her shithead boyfriend’s car before getting in and driving away. She’s left him alone with his Mam and he’s not sure how long he’s going to be able to put up with her alone. 

Rhiannon promises to visit, but he doubts she will.

18

He’s packed. He’s leaving for London. His mother kisses him on the cheek and his sister texts him to say he’s stupid, but she’s left home and only visits once or twice a month, plus he’s pretty sure she’s pregnant and trying to hide it from their Mam.

19

University is crazy, and Ianto has never known freedom like it. He works in a shitty cafe around his uni work, he drinks too much and sometimes worries he’s like his father. But he’s generally happy, the pressure of getting work in on time is a lovely reassurance and he’s organised enough to not have to worry too much. 

When people ask him what his parents do, he learns to lie. His Dad’s shitty job at the department store in the Dewi Sant shopping centre becomes tailor, his Mam’s part-time auxiliary nurse job lands her as a proper nurse at St Helen’s - these people are never going to meet his family, so why not lie?

On one strangely ordinary, slightly drunken, night he loses his virginity to a pretty fellow student who pretends to not notice how nervous he is. His hands shake when he puts the condom on and once he finally manages to get himself _in_ he lasts all of four minutes before he’s shaking and sweating over this very lovely, very patient woman. After that he has enough confidence to go out and have more sex, he gets better at it, acts like he knows what he’s doing. He’s not every girl’s first choice, but he’s appreciative of the attention he gets over his time at uni. He goes into his third year with the hope of getting the best final grade possible. When he calls his Mam, she says she’s sad because he’s never going to come back to live in Cardiff.

21

University is over and the world is waiting for him. It’s fucking terrifying. Standing in front of his new home for the next who-knows-how-long, Ianto slots his key into the front door of the shared London flat and heads inside. He tries to ignore the way his heart flutters in his chest. He never has to live with either of his family again.

He realises, for the first time in his adult life, that he doesn’t love his family. Not properly.

22

Sorren leaves mugs around the flat and Ianto hates it, it makes the place look untidy. He’s a nice enough bloke but he’s a bit messy and perhaps pushing high on the scale of laziness. It doesn’t stop them from having a nice time occasionally, they drink tins of lager together and bicker light-heartedly about music tastes. Ianto scrapes through each month with just enough money from his job at the local library to feed himself, pay his rent and his portion of the bills. He trawls through pages upon pages of job applications on his chunky computer, not really noticing himself filling them out.

Until one day, he gets a call.

“Is this Mr Jones?” a male voice says.

“Speaking,” Ianto replies, as adult as he can muster.

“I’m getting in touch from the Torchwood Institute, I was wondering if you were available for an interview regarding the Archivist position?” the voice continues.

Ianto punches the air but keeps his voice steady “Yes, of course...when suits you... sir?”

He spends the remainder of his left-over money for the month on a second hand suit.

***

Torchwood is insane and mad. His boss is an ice queen, she orders people around like she was born to do it and the pair strike up a strange, professional friendship. He pushes himself, learns things he’s pretty sure he should never know and has the threat of a small white pill hanging over his head if he ever decides it’s all too much.

He goes for drinks with various women, but none of them stick. He notices a few men looking his way, but he’s too nervous to push himself.

His boss introduces him to a co-worker who laughs at his odd humour and asks if he wants to go for a drink. Her name’s Lisa, and Ianto is pretty sure she’s the one, but he tries not to scare her off by declaring love on their second date.

Then one day a rumour flies through the offices.

_The Doctor is here._

Ianto takes it with a pinch of salt, today doesn’t feel special. He decides to finish his paperwork and surreptitiously drop it off for Yvonne to see if he can figure out whether there’s any truth to the gossip. He shoots off a text to Lisa to see if she knows anything, but he doesn’t get a reply, he thinks nothing of it and assumes she’s busy.

Ianto pauses his admin and watches out of the window as they go into ghost shift, and sees specks of white appearing before disappearing just as quickly.

Then the screaming starts (and trivial things like paperwork fall to the wayside). 

Ianto hides, runs and is almost certain he’s going to die.

He finds Lisa, screaming and covered in blood, Ianto has no idea if it’s all her own. He pulls her from between sheets of plastic (which are also dripping with blood) and hauls her towards an exit - any exit - desperately shouting for help. He gets her to his car and she whispers something, he listens and runs back into the burning building to collect equipment. He can’t lose Lisa, not when he’s seen his friends cut up and turned into monsters.

He drives away, weaving through devastated street, knowing he can’t stay in London after this. His belongings are packed up as quickly as possible, Sorren never comes home, and he heads back home to Cardiff. He finds a small flat on the cheap, falsifies documents, and keeps his half-dead girlfriend alive, but only just. He needs somewhere bigger. 

A plan forms in his mind: Ianto knows of Torchwood Three based in Cardiff, he needs the equipment they have in order to keep Lisa alive. So he uses the tech he’s stolen to get himself a new job.

***

Jack Harkness is a bastard but Ianto knows he has to play nice in order for this to work. The team think he’s just there for admin, they assume Jack hired him to be a pretty face and whilst his skin crawls at the knowledge of that, Ianto presses on with getting things sorted for Lisa. He calls as many robotics experts as he can find, and stumbles on one willing to visit whilst he’s on business the following month - he’s intrigued by the promise of a half completed Cyber-conversion.

***

He spends his life hiding. He hides how he really feels about his colleagues, using his defence of dry humour to cover up the fact he’s in agony. He cries more than he feels is normal, often at home wishing Lisa was there with him not stuck in a frame in a damp corner of Torchwood.

Missions come and go, Ianto watches the team rush to help people, coming back battered, bruised and pissed off. He’s always ready with coffee and food for their return - content to serve if it keeps up his facade. 

He catches Jack looking at him perhaps a little too much, and often Ianto thinks the game is up and he knows about what’s locked up underneath their feet. 

Suzie dies, Gwen slots into her place (in more ways than one), in her first week she sets loose an sex addled alien and accidentally stabs an old man. If she was at Torchwood One, she’d be wiped and left in her flat to find another job. Ianto assumes that she gets away with it because Jack doesn’t want anyone to think he’s wrong about _anything_. But he says nothing and keeps his head down, puts in the occasional joke for posterity and pushes on.

***

Lisa dies twice. He’s not seen so much blood since Canary Wharf.

Ianto is pretty sure he’s going to be pulled out of the Bay come Monday morning.

He doesn't end up in the Bay, instead he's suspended, a fate almost worse than death - because now he has to live through his mistake.

***

Ianto tries to leave Jack to die in the cellar of a pub, like he had promised on the Plass, but he can’t quite manage it. Instead he rectifies his own mistake and then cries in the front of the SUV.

One thing leads to another and they’re snogging like teenagers. Bit of a U-turn, but Ianto’s always found feelings to be complicated.

He wakes up naked in his flat the next morning to an empty bed and a sore arse. He sighs and falls back into the pillows, the residual smell of Jack still lingering on them. He breathes deeply and calls in to say he’ll be late.

That afternoon, Ianto has a small panic attack over a cup of coffee when he realises he just slept with his _very male_ boss, he tries to push it down because he wishes his father was alive so he could relish the look of anger in his eyes at his son being _not enough_ at something else. Ianto liked having sex with Jack, and he wants to do it again.

***

Ianto propositions Jack over Suzie’s corpse, throwing a joke in for a full effect.

He doesn’t care, Ianto never really liked her anyway.

Jack looks impressed and Ianto gets a thrill down his spine from appearing spontaneous and clever.

***

Their little _agreement_ stretches a little and soon he and Jack are kissing in the archives, or in the boardroom or the greenhouse, tip-toeing around like cheating lovers. There’s something so dangerous about it which titillates Ianto to distraction enough to make him forget all the shit that the last year has brought. Jack is hot-headed, stubborn and heavy - he gives as good as he gets and Ianto doesn’t have to worry about hurting him because they’re both adults and Jack has a motto for fucking - ‘the rougher, the better’. Ianto finds himself less angry, generally, and snorts to himself when he considers the idea that the sex works like anger management.

23

The first sign that perhaps their little _new agreement_ is going too far is when Jack offers Ianto a small cake with a candle in it.

“Happy birthday,” Jack says as Ianto blows out the candle and takes the cake, pulling out the stick of wax and peeling the casing away. He takes a bite and Jack looks too proud of himself, the cake is demolished within seconds and before Ianto can say anything clever Jack’s clever hands pull open his belt, undo his zip and soon all thoughts of _anything_ go straight out the metaphorical window.

***

Ianto visits his Mam and she doesn’t look well at all, despite what she says. She’s pale and weak, he desperately wants to know how he can help but she insists that she’s fine and that the nurse who comes twice a day is enough. He feels too young to be an orphan, but he knows it's a prospect he’s probably facing. She coughs and he hears it tearing her chest, he tries his best to be comforting, but he doesn’t really know how.

They chat about Rhiannon, he pretends to moan about his boring job for the government. She looks weary so he makes her a cup of tea and kisses her on the cheek before heading home.

When he gets to his flat he finds Jack, naked and grinning, spread out on his bed.

He’d commend him on poor timing, but he hasn’t got the energy to explain, so instead he pins Jack down and barely undresses himself, putting all of his emotion into fucking Jack seven ways to Sunday.

If Jack dislikes it, he doesn’t say. Only leers afterwards when they’re both heaving breaths and covered in hideous amounts of sweat and come.

“Always full of surprises,” Jack mutters, running his fingers through Ianto’s hair softly.

***

Christmas comes and goes, Ianto suddenly has a new car courtesy of Jack (and it’s not for sleeping with him). His Mam gets worse, he doesn’t know how he manages to balance work and life but he does - somehow. Rhiannon shouts at him for not visiting more, but he tells her time and time again that _work’s always busy_. When he’s not working he’s either having sex, dropping off the shopping for his Mam, or sleeping. His feet ache all the time.

(He doesn’t want to tell Rhiannon that he finds it hard to look at his own mother.)

***

Jack dies being heroic and Ianto hates him for it. 

But he comes back and Ianto forgives him within seconds. Their lips press together, in front of the whole team, and Ianto’s aspersions about whether they were playing pretend are cast away and replaced with the assurity that Jack _wants_ **him**.

***

But then Jack disappears.

***

The team reshuffles, they hear nothing from their leader who’s suddenly MIA, and Ianto spends the first week of Jack’s absence running facial recognition software through the computers, hoping to get a match. He finds nothing.

And then, out of nowhere, they’re called to the Himalayas.

It’s there that Ianto learns he detests altitude sickness more than anything on Earth. He goes to bed each day praying for Jack to come back and fix it all. He doesn’t. So they finish up and head back to Cardiff, barely talking to one another during the flight, and once they arrive back in the UK they all climb into separate taxis, desperate to have their own space again.

***

His Mam’s funeral is small and Ianto feels oddly like he’s in the next room for the majority of it. Like he’s looking through glass, or underwater. Either way, he doesn’t feel like he’s all there.

He drinks a bottle of wine, once he’s home, and wakes up on top of the covers still fully dressed and feeling like shit.

***

It seems the ice from the mountains followed them home and for the first few days, the Hub is void of Tosh and Gwen laughing loudly, Owen is sombre and quiet. Ianto picks his way around, cleaning equipment, ordering documents alphabetically, cleaning down surfaces - he doesn’t bother to strike up conversation. They’re all so tired. 

As soon as Ianto gets home each night, he makes something quick and simple for dinner, eats, washes up and collapses in bed. He idly wonders whether the other’s feel as empty as he does, as angry as him when they think about Jack.

***

Captain Jack Harkness returns in a shower of blowfish brains and retcon. 

Ianto can’t talk at first because he has so many questions, but above all he’s furious. Furious at Jack for leaving without saying anything, for making them all feel scared, upset and abandoned. 

Within two hours Jack disappears again in the SUV, but this time they’re ready for a chase.

John Hart is disgusting and slimy, Ianto instantly takes a disliking to him. Every word that comes out of his mouth feels like a lie and he wonders what kind of man Jack used to be in order for him to choose to be with someone like _that._

The cold barrel of a gun is pressed to his forehead, there’s a saliticious grin and a missed phone call to Jack. He smacks the wall of the lift in frustration before he runs through the ground floor of the offices and into the SUV, frantically trying to contact _anyone._

***

John Hart walks into the rift and Ianto feels himself relax, if only a little. 

***

Ianto takes Jack back to his, pulling out a spare duvet and pillow from his airing cupboard and chucking it on the sofa. Jack doesn’t look surprised and takes the sofa gratefully, stripping off to his typical white t-shirt and boxers - Ianto feels shame well in his stomach as he inadvertently checks out Jack’s arse. He curses himself silently and goes to brush his teeth.

“I know you’re angry.” Jack says and Ianto looks up to see Jack standing behind him in his bathroom mirror.

Ianto spits out the toothpaste into the sink and points his toothbrush at Jack.

“You don’t understand _anything_ ,” he says firmly.

Jack looks down at the floor and, for once, he looks guilty. _Good_.

Ianto dumps his brush into its pot and opens up the cupboard below the sink, pulling out some unused toiletries from a travel washbag.

Jack clocks them and gives him a lopsided smile “You kept them,”

Ianto rolls his eyes “I’m not a monster,”

“Neither am I,”

“I always hoped you’d…,” he trails off, handing Jack his toothbrush.

Jack lets out a small laugh, surprised and happy before pressing a kiss to Ianto’s cheek.

“ _Goodnight,_ Ianto,”

“Night, Jack,”

Ianto gives him a small smile and closes his bedroom door behind him. He hears Jack click off the bathroom light and settle down on the sofa. There’s a part of him that feels guilty, but he tries to remember how hurt he was by Jack’s absence.

By the next morning they’re kissing against the kitchen counter as the kettle boils on the stove (he’s got a hatred of electric kettles, they make his coffee taste bitter). It whistles as the kiss grows heated and Jack chuckles, switching off the gas and cupping Ianto’s face.

“This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you,” Ianto says bitterly.

“I know.”

They kiss a little more before the coffee is prepared, all in all, they’re only ten minutes late to work.

24

Ianto realises the morning after his twenty-fourth birthday, that perhaps time isn’t on his side. Jack’s curled up next to him, there’s a faint pounding in his head telling him that perhaps _he did_ overdo it with the wine last night if the taste of cardboard in his mouth is anything to go by.

This _isn’t_ where he thought he’d end up right now, Jack Harkness hogging the duvet, a bleak hangover settled in for the day and the knowledge that he might be called into work at any given moment. Clearly he feels no ill-intent though, because it doesn’t feel _wrong_ , it just feels like one of those moments when you realise nothing lasts forever and you have to watch cat videos until the sensation passes. Nonchalantly running his fingers across Jack’s scalp, Ianto realises that even though _literally nothing_ has turned out the way he wanted, he’s concludes that he’s okay with that. 

He’s at some kind of peace with it, which feels very adult of him. 

Jack nudges the pillow with his face and Ianto smiles.

“You know, if you’re going to wake me up, you may as well make it a happy one,” Jack says, voice thick with sleep.

Ianto chuckles, and he shuffles so that he can trail his hand down Jack’s side. The other man cracks an eye open and beams sleepily.

The Rift doesn’t interrupt them, for once. Breakfast is eaten in bed, then left forgotten on the bedside table as things become heated. Takeaway is ordered in the late afternoon, along with a bottle of wine, they drink and eat before finally deciding to get dressed. Jack drives them down to the Bay and they walk around the seafront, hand in hand. Ianto keeps looking over his shoulder.

“Relax,” Jack says, rubbing Ianto’s knuckles with his thumb.

Ianto gives him a half-hearted and self-conscious smile, thinking about how this might be one of the best birthday’s he’s ever had.

***

Ianto receives more dates within the next six months than he can assume he had in the previous years of his life put together. Jack takes him to high-end restaurants, jazz bars, recitals, concerts, the theatre, cocktail bars, and on one particularly strange night - Nando’s.

***

As a field agent, Ianto finds himself having to do twice the amount of work with half the time. In the space of just a few weeks he has an insurmountable amount of work laid out in front of him, Jack paws at him and complains about being forgotten, but Ianto still finds time to quell his thirst a little - a kiss here, a quick romp there, he looks forward to when things settle down again. This just feels like the Rift is giving Jack a welcome home present. Beth dies, Tommy is looped back into his own timeline, he manages to save himself from a plane crash, it’s all rather emotionally draining.

Until one morning Ianto wakes up with a thumping headache and the realisation at the loss of twelve hours of his life, he scrabbles for his phone, yanking the charging cable from it as his fingers fumble over the buttons.

There’s two dialling tones before the other end picks up.

_“Ianto?”_

“Jack, I need you to be honest with me. Did you retcon me yesterday?”

_“No. Why? You missing time?”_

“About twelve hours, I can remember getting home but I don’t remember the evening, going to bed, only waking up,” Ianto pulls the covers back and heads into the kitchen/living room.

_“You want me and Owen to come over?”_

Ianto spots a scrap of paper on the coffee table, he swallows and reaches for it - picking it up carefully.

_“Ianto?”_

Ianto reads the words on the page.

“Uh...no. I don’t think that’ll be necessary, sir,” he pauses “I think it’s left well alone,”

_“Only if you’re sure…,”_

“I am,” he fiddles with the paper “once I get in, take some bloods but I think this is best left forgotten,”

Jack isn’t convinced _“Get in when you can. Owen’ll be ready by the time you arrive,”_

“Thanks. See you in a bit,”

_“See you soon,”_

Ianto looks back down at the piece of paper.

_You’ve been retconned. You’re fine, trust me. Go to work, kiss Jack, carry on. What’s forgotten is sometimes best left that way._

_IJ_

Ianto stares at the note for a few more seconds before folding it up and heading into the bedroom to get ready for work.

***

More time passes, Ianto watches as Rhys is inoculated into Torchwood. He seems like an alright bloke, more than enough to keep Gwen on her toes - and Jack, but he tries not to dwell on that.

He finally feels like he’s part of the team, properly. They’ve all settled into their places, Jack is back at the top. 

***

Martha joins them, she’s beautiful, clever and her humour is just as dry as his. Ianto is fairly certain that twenty-one year old him would be head-over-heels if they’d met at Torchwood One.

He’s just about to show her the blueprints to the Pharm when a puzzle piece slots into place in his mind.

“Did you have someone from your family who worked at Torchwood One?” he asks.

Martha looks between a mixture of surprised and sad.

“Cousin,” she says “Adeola,”

“I met her, at an office party, I think,” Ianto says, he smiles sadly “I’m sorry,”

Martha shakes her head “It’s a small world,” she says with full irony.

They both share a look and move on, Martha lightens the mood and pokes him for more information about Jack’s bedroom style and he gives her enough to chew on.

And then Owen dies. And the world goes slightly sideways.

Ianto feels sick to his stomach - he did warn Jack... gloves come in pairs.

25

A quarter of a century. Twenty five years old.

“You’re old,” Jack teases as they sit against the headboard of Ianto’s bed.

“Don’t even go there, Harkness,” Ianto warns, giving him a very stern look.

Jack just chuckles and kisses him, before reaching for something by his side of the bed. His arm reappears and he’s holding a small package. Ianto raises an eyebrow.

“I thought we said no presents?” he says.

“Yeah... but I can explain,” Jack nudges the parcel towards Ianto and he takes it.

Ianto takes it, dubiously, and looks up at Jack “Is it a sex thing? Just to save me the embarrassment,” 

“No, no,” Jack lets out a laugh “nothing like that. Open it,”

Ianto gives him a less than satisfied look but pulls the string on the top and the wrapping falls open.

“It fell through the rift about thirty years ago, I’d completely forgotten it existed until I found it in the safe,” Jack takes the wrapping and dumps it over the edge of the bed, Ianto squashes the urge to tidy it away.

Instead he focuses on the object in his palm.

“What is it?” he says, looking at Jack. 

He turns the stone over in his hand, no bigger than his palm, it’s flat and oval, it catches the light as it turns causing rainbows to scatter across the surface. Ianto swears it’s transparent, but as it turns it gains solidity it grows black and then clear again. 

“It’s from my home world.” Jack smiles, taking the stone-like object and holding it up to the light.

“It’s beautiful,” Ianto says, watching the light refract, it almost seems to glow.

“They’re found at the bottom of the ocean, and during certain moon phases they glow. My Dad used to say they were made from these animals, like whales and ambergris, and when it died, one of these would wash up on the shore... like a pearl,”

“Is it bioluminescent?” 

“Uh-huh,” Jack hands it back to Ianto “I’d search the beach for _hours_ trying to find one on the Peninsula. Never did, not until now.”

“And it’s from the fifty-first century?” 

“That’s what the scanner said,” Jack looks at him “a bit of the future, from Boeshane,”

Ianto gives him a curious look “You’re always so guarded about your childhood,” he forces down the shame of lying to Jack about his own childhood - some things are best left unsaid.

“I want to be more open with you. I want you to trust me,” Jack gives him a lop-sided smile “Happy Birthday,”

Ianto leans forward before he can feel too guilty and catches Jack’s lips in a kiss.

***

Gwen gets married and Ianto hopes this is the kick Jack needs to stop watching her so closely.

A travelling circus and a lone child survivor, Ianto remembers being that old and he’s not sure if the boy is blessed or cursed for surviving.

They move on, Gwen goes rogue over missing people and Ianto watches as she butts heads with Jack - he wants to stop all this, so he slips a package on her desk. Typical Gwen, she wanders in on him and Jack in the hot house, Ianto tries not to feel too embarrassed because he shouldn’t need to. Jack stands there and they stare at one another, Ianto’s not sure if perhaps _he_ should leave.

_“Work to do,”_

_“Yup,”_

***

Jack corners him the next evening in his office.

“You told her,” he says bluntly.

Ianto grits his teeth and puts down the tray of dirty crockery.

“Yeah,” he replies, turning to face him, he’s got better at this - confrontation. Better at standing on his own two feet.

“After everything I said, everything I told you, and you went above me,” 

“Only because you were too stubborn to do it yourself. She was going to find out eventually, I just cut to the chase,”

“I told you about Flat Holm _in confidence_ , Ianto,”

“She’s not stupid, Jack. It’s why you hired her.”

There’s a pregnant pause, they stare at each other for a second. 

Jack strides over and crowds him, but Ianto stands tall, determined, eyes cold “You keep betraying my trust,”

“ _Fuck you_ ,” Ianto spits, pushing Jack backwards. 

He stumbles and slams into the wall behind him. 

Ianto marches up to him “Don’t you _dare_ lecture me about betrayal! How many times have you chosen to withhold information from me, from the rest of the team? And it always ends in people getting hurt - so I decided to give her a head start, so what? It’s Gwen, she wasn’t going to let it go!” 

He stares at Jack, they’re both breathing heavily, the older man looks equally pissed off and he goes to open his mouth.

“No - no, _I’m_ talking, Jack.” Ianto orders and Jack’s mouth shuts audibly, but his eyes are wild with anger “how do you think we all felt when you disappeared, huh? When you didn’t even leave a note? Or when you had the chance to tell us about the fact you _can’t die_ ? Why did we only learn about John when we _had_ to?” he pauses “Who’s Gray, Jack? Is Jack your real name? Tosh told me about 1941. What do you expect us to do when all you do is lie to us?”

Ianto stops and runs a hand down his face, he steps back and perches on the edge of the desk “I’m tired of the bullshit, Jack. We all are,”

He looks back at Jack and the anger slides from his expression, he looks defeated. 

“I’m sorry,”

Ianto scoffs “That’s a start, I s’pose,”

Jack moves to stand in front of Ianto “I don’t lie because I want to. I’m trying to protect you all.”

“Jack,” Ianto says quietly “we’re your friends, your family. You’ve _got_ to learn to trust us otherwise this,” he gestures to the office, to the Hub around them “isn’t going to work,”

Jack sighs “I know,”

Ianto waits.

“I’ve done so many bad things, been so many different people... I’ve seen the end of the world.”

“The end of the world. How?"

“Whilst I was away,” Jack closes his eyes “the things I saw - whole continents disappearing, genocide of races. I didn’t cry, though, not then - it didn’t feel _real_. They killed me over and over again. I thought it was never going to end,” he sucks in a breath “I saw the others die.” Jack opens his eyes and looks out across the Hub, empty computer banks show the others have scarpered for the day.

“What about me?” Ianto asks, not sure if he really wants to know the answer.

Jack winces “They knew, somehow, about us. They killed them all except you.” he puts a hand on Ianto’s cheek, rubbing his thumb against soft skin “they put you in the room with me. They unchained one of my hands, and put a gun on the floor. One bullet.”

Ianto lets out a shaky breath, Jack sniffs.

“I hadn’t cried. Not until then. You looked so tired, and beaten.” Jack runs his hand through Ianto’s hair, memorising the sensation of his hair under his fingertips “you picked up the gun, your hand was shaking so badly. Raised it to your head, but you couldn’t do it. I knew it. That’s why they’d done it.”

“What happened?” Ianto murmurs, he’s pretty sure he knows already.

Jack wipes his wet cheeks with the cuff of his shirt “You walked up to me, put the gun into my hand, laid your head on my shoulder and we did it... _together_.”

Ianto looks down and takes a long in-breath followed by a shaky exhale, Jack coughs and pulls Ianto to his chest, holding him as if he’s trying to ground himself.

He’s not sure what else Jack has seen during his time away from Torchwood, but it seems like he went to Hell. 

Ianto learns quickly how to gauge when to stop asking.

***

A warehouse falls on them, Ianto swears he sees his life flash before his eyes.

In the maylay of Gray and John, they lose Tosh and Owen.

It hurts, it hurts so badly. Especially considering that they never got the chance to be happy. Ianto wonders if they would have made it together, given the chance - Tosh being so loving, and Owen being so cold. 

Love is strange, so he tries not to think about it too much - it’s never going to happen now.

***

The Doctor appears and Jack goes to help save the day, Ianto swears that this is the day he _actually dies_. He grimaces into the feeling of the machine gun in his hands spitting out round after round.

But they’re saved by Tosh, fantastic, brilliant Tosh - beyond the grave, their bloody angel.

The Dalek explodes (as does the Time Lock) and they cling to the frame of the computer banks whilst the Earth is dragged back into place.

Ianto passes out on the sofa and is woken to Jack smiling above him. They retreat down to the bunker and, for a few blissful days, everything is quiet.

***

But as ever, with Torchwood, things never go to plan. Norton Folgate is yet another harsh reminder that Ianto is just a name on a list, a notch on a bedpost and he feels insecurity and jealousy swirling in his stomach - it’s ridiculous to feel jealous about a man from 1955, but he can’t help it.

Jack’s infected, hunting him down in a lockdown whilst Norton referees poorly. Ianto tries the Disney bullshit and it doesn’t work, eventually Jack’s body shuts down and he dies, again, in his arms.

Ianto curses Norton as he runs across the Plass, eventually bumping into Luke at the castle.

They manage to save the day, but the cost is immense, they’ve never known anything like it. When Doctor Larson confirms he had the virus all along, Ianto doesn't really know what to do with that information, he feels that it should prove how strong he is but instead it chills him.

***

Then the children of the world talk in unison.

And Ianto has no idea what’s about to happen. 

Maybe that's for the best.

_fin_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you got to the end, I commend you, you're the best!
> 
> Huge props to everyone who turned out for the TW and DW rewatch, they were something special - here's to more!
> 
> sherlockpond.tumblr.com
> 
> @nicolehollyking (Twitter)
> 
> (I'd love to do a collaboration fic with someone, if anyone is interested?)
> 
> I also wrote this for the end, but when I read through it didn't really pack a punch so I thought I'd stick it in the notes instead:
> 
> "Ianto Jones who’s battled aliens, written reports in the small hours of the morning until his eyes burn with effort; who’s survived Torchwood One, and the Doctor (twice). The same man who lost both his parents, who doesn’t really understand love, how to be in love, how to process it. 
> 
> He’s lived a life of neglect and agony, guns, adrenaline and sex; a man who’ll march into battle in a three piece suit, consequences be damned.
> 
> Mr Jones, Ianto, Yan-too. A killer, a boyfriend, an ordinary kid from an estate with a shit father, a vacant mother, and a sister who refused to see what was in front of her all along.
> 
> A life filled with coffee, eye rolls, and wonder. No one expected him to come to much, let alone poor Ianto himself. But he defied them all, even if some of them will never know."


End file.
